Comments from hotspur

Kelly, you have been amazing. A super genius. This site was fantastic under your leadership and with your writing.
Katherine Chloe Cahoon, I have come to love you, and I thank you for this good-bye.
Scott, I appreciate this goodbye from you, and am very glad to know you'll be looking for ways to help us out.
Monsters, you have made this place a home. An unforgettable home. All of you. Almost all.
And now it is time to put this home on a boat and set that boat on fire, I guess.
(And also archive the hell out of it and go hang out in a different home with all the same people.)

I feel like this post is one electrified spider bite away from being the origin story of Banana-Girl.
Banana-Girl: crime-fighter and mystery-solver extraordinaire, known to evil-doers and nefarious time-wasters everywhere as the bane(ana) of their existence.

What people don't know is that since 2011, Top Gun 2 went through 19 drafts by 26 different writing teams, moved from Michael Bay to Fincher to Uwe Boll, survived major studio personnel changes (twice), and was finally greenlit*, filmed, focus-grouped, and released this past fall. It's new title? Golden Globe nominee Mandela: Long Walk to Freedom -- and audiences fell in love all over again.
*Greenlit is also a term. #NeverForget

I just ate a jalapeño bagel and am trying to come to a lunch decision. There's a food truck outside selling lobster rolls, so it is a science fact that I could have lobster. But I could also save $10 and wait to see what sandwiches are left over after a meeting down the hall ends. I might get tuna on wheat. Not as good as lobster, but it's always nice to have $10 in your pocket.
This is the last How Was Your Day, so I should really bring it? But now I'm bummed. I think bummed comes after denial and fear? So I'm right on schedule. Denial, fear, bummed. What will tomorrow bring? I feel the beginning sparks of anger. Maybe I will be angry and alienate you all on our last day as a family! MAYBE THAT WILL BE FOR THE BEST.
In other news, someone at work who is away from their desk keeps getting calls on their cellphone, which is on their desk and has a ridiculous ringtone that is cranked way, way loud. I'm assuming it's their mom calling because who calls?

You wear a tie? I'm wearing a T-shirt. It's not even a nice one. And I need a haircut and haven't shaved all week. Still, I look way nicer than I would if I could work from home.
What am I going to do at work without videogum? Dress better? Oof.

He's also one of those actors who just needs to win for something. It almost doesn't matter what. The Academy goes, "He was in something again? Let's give him the win so we can move on." I started watching House Of Cards last night and now that R2 mentions it, I see what he accomplishes there as kind of huge: His character is not funny, full of life, or likable in any way -- but he makes it compelling. He could sit there wearing a reserved almost bland face, sort of rumpled clothes, in a poorly lit room -- and it's impossible to look away. He's compelling.
That said, there's only one worse Best Picture in my lifetime. Hoo, this stinkeroo!

I love this recap. I remember watching this show as a youngster with my mom; it might be the first show I ever hate-watched. Michael and Hope were so whiney and depressed, acting like every little decision was a meteor threatening the Earth. They'd seriously go into a meltdown of halted speech and gloomy stares over what color to paint the study, Extra Beige or Dull White. I remember saying "They're not gonna make it, are they?" and my mom saying probably not but you never know, because it's TV. I did like the fun-loving lit professor with long hair (who they killed off, because that's life), and Ellyn, because her voice was sexy and she always wore pants hiked up to highlight the existence of her crotch. But this was a terrible show about terrible people.

Ahahhaha! That is amazing. You just reminded me of a guy I saw who thought he was Rage Against the Machine. It was just him with a keyboard as I recall. The main song was one where he screamed "Fuck the bullshit!" over and over. It was meant to be a call to arms but this was happening at about 8pm on a nice summer night in a relatively upscale pub in Washington DC. At one point he ripped off his shirt, twirled it over his head while screaming "Fuck the bullshit!" and then hurled the shirt into the audience. I love for eternity whoever it was that caught it and threw it back into his face.

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